House Drabbles
by FancyFuck
Summary: Some song-based drabbles, House/Wilson slash I put my iPod on shuffle and picked songs.
1. Chapter 1

**Shut Me Up - Mindless Self Indulgence**

"Fuck you!"

"Wilson."

"No, fuck you!" Wilson tried to wriggle out of House's grasp, but the older doctor only held on tighter.

"Wilson, let me explain," House started.

"No! What did you say to her? You chased her away! We were getting along, House, we were _good!_" Wilson finally jerked away and stood glaring at House.

"Will you just-" He was interrupted by Wilson again.

"No! Sam was the best thing that happened to me since- since Amber died! Why do you always ruin everything for me House? You couldn't just let me be, why do I have to be miserable too?" He rested his hands on his hips, giving his friend the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Misery loves company." House gave a little smile that did nothing but infuriate the other doctor more.

"Is that _all_ you have to say?" Wilson's voice was getting louder and angrier.

"Wilson."

"Not even an _apology_? An _explanation_?" Almost yelling.

"Jimmy."

"House I swear, sometimes-"

"James!" Wilson stopped his ranting and stared at House, hands still on his hips. House shuffled closer.

"Do you ever think that maybe there's a _reason_ all your relationships don't work? All except _one_?" He asked, leaning closer to his friend. "Do you think it might not be something I'm doing _wrong_," Wilson's face wrinkled in confusion, "But maybe something I'm doing _right_?"

"What are you talking about House?"

"Do you want to know what I told her?"

"What?" Wilson squinted at him as House leaned even closer.

"I told her that you didn't love her." House said. Wilson spluttered, searching for words.

"What! She wouldn't have believed it! Who _would_ believe you ? You're you!"

"She believed me, because _you_ believe me."

Finally. Silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Crush - David Archuleta**

It was an ordinary night of sitting on the couch and watching the game: not for the game itself, but for the cheerleaders bouncing around in short skirts. Not that cheerleaders were of much interest to House, he preferred studying Wilson more. He was munching on some chips and occasionally grabbing healthy food from Wilson's plate. God knew what it was, but it was delicious. Of course, Wilson constantly protested but House ignored his complaining: they both knew that Wilson didn't really care. House observed his friend: chewing contently and watching the screen, Wilson looked completely at ease. It was not often that he had a chance to see him like this, there was always something that stressed Wilson out -whether that be a dying patient or House himself- Wilson never seemed to be totally relaxed. He looked much younger, and happier. It was nice. House felt a pang of guilt, he really should try to stop annoying Wilson so often. They were both getting old, and everyone knew what stress could do to a guy.

House wished that he wasn't so stubborn, he wanted to tell Wilson how he felt, how much he cared for him, but the thought of Wilson taking it the wrong way (or the right way) stopped him. He couldn't bare to ruin the only relationship that ever worked over a stupid crush. He wondered if James ever felt the same way, if he ever had urge to hold House, to kiss him. The thought filled him with a bittersweet emotion, it was impossible. But, sometimes James would look at him, and Greg would swear that there was something in those chocolate eyes, something more than friendship. Then he'd look away and feeling would pass, leaving House feeling frustrated and alone.

Studying his friend's face, House blindly reached for some food and grabbed Wilson's fingers instead. They both started and looked from their hands to each other. Eyes wide, his friends face was an unreadable mix of emotions. House didn't let go, and Wilson didn't pull away. A rush of heat spun through House's head and burned his ears, now was his chance. He leaned forward slowly just as Wilson moved towards him, their eyes locked the entire time. Gingerly they moved closer and closer until their noses touched, still staring. Fingers now intertwined, they sat there for what House felt was forever, until Wilson closed his eyes and closed the gap between their lips. The wave of warmth that surged through House was _definitely_ not just a crush.


End file.
